Us Against The World
by ClearLikeButter
Summary: Modern day AU! Lady Sybil Crawley inherits everything from her father, Including his business in Dublin. When she takes over the position of CEO, with no experience whatsoever, she gets some unexpected help in the form of Tom Branson, who has been working in the mailroom since he was sixteen. The unlikely pair has to face threats, stalkers and their love for each other.
1. Prologue

**Us against the world**

**A/N:** A big, big thank you to my beta **"The Yankee Countess"**. This is my first AU fanfic _ever, _so please let me know what you think. Reviews are always welcome!

**Summary:** Modern day AU! Lady Sybil Crawley inherits everything from her father, Including his business in Dublin. When she takes over the position of CEO, with no experience whatsoever, she gets some unexpected help in the form of Tom Branson, who has been working in the mailroom since he was sixteen. The unlikely pair has to face threats, stalkers and their love for each other.

This story includes all the familiar characters in one way or another and yes, Larry Grey will definitely make an appearance.

**Disclaimer:** Not mine, not mine, not mine!

* * *

**Prologue. The day she died**

Sybil Crawley ran.

She ran as if her life depended on it.

It didn't. Her happiness however**,** did**,** and so she ran, almost faster than humanly possible.

She weaved her way through crowds, crossed busy streets**,** and passed alleyways that spent more time under the guise 'crime scene' then anything else. When she was nearly two blocks away from her destination, her body decided enough was enough. A tiny black spot danced in front of her eyes as if it were at a disco. It was soon followed by some of its larger friends. Sybil felt a painful stab in her side and started to feel light headed. Cursing her low blood pressure and the fact that she had never really cared about sports (because who needs sports when you can watch TV?) she slowly came to a halt.

What she failed to notice however was how inconvenient the location where she had stopped really was.

* * *

David had had too much to drink. He knew it, but after his wife had left him for a younger man just over a month ago, he just didn't care as much as he used to.

This was the third day in a row he had left Bill's truck stop drunk and under protest of his colleagues who insisted he shouldn't drive in this sorry state. The truth was he had to. If he didn't deliver his load, he would get fired. If he didn't drink**,** he'd think too much about the things he'd rather forget. So with a lot of effort**,** he lifted his heavy body back into the cabin of his American truck and hit the road.

Less than an hour later he made his way through a small town**;** the main road was blocked due to an accident. Something about a drunk driver**,** but David wasn't the least bit concerned. When his radio suddenly started to give out, he bent forward to take a look at the old piece of useless equipment. David had once been aware of the fact that men aren't very good at multitasking. He had also once been aware of the fact that no one can properly drive a moving vehicle without looking where they're going. In his drunken haze he had forgotten about all of this and only cared about fixing his radio.

Due to the rain that hadn't stopped falling all day, and the curb his front left tire suddenly collided with, his truck started to swerve. It moved dangerously towards the opposite lane, which at this hour wasn't occupied by any other cars, thank god. It was occupied however by something that would later prove to be much less shock resistant than a car or truck.

Sybil Crawley.

She was standing on the street, close to the curb and as David sat up straight and tried with all his might to avoid her, even he could tell it was already too late.

* * *

Sybil had heard people say your life flashes in front of your eyes just before you die…

And so it did.

* * *

**TBC**


	2. Chapter 1: The day it all began

**A/N:** Thanks again to my beta 'The Yankee Countess' and thanks to everyone who welcomed me to the Downton fandom!:-) The rest of this story will be a flashback of Sybil's life up to the 'accident'. Tom isn't in this chapter yet but he'll make an appearance soon, I promise! Can't comment on whether Sybil is going to live or not, sorry…

* * *

**Chapter 1. The day it all began**

A mind is a very strange phenomenon. You think you have control over it, but most times you don't. Very much like a stubborn child, a mind will go off on its own accord whenever it pleases**,** and grounding it doesn't always help.

Sybil's mind for example thought it best to take her back to the day that changed her life forever.

_The shrill and urgent sound of a ringing telephone woke her up at 4 AM in the morning. Sybil groaned and threw a pillow over her head to drown out the noise. When the phone __rang__ for the tenth time in less than four minutes__**, **__she finally answered. _

"_Sybil?" She heard her mom's worried voice ask from the other end of the line._

"_Mom?" Sybil sat up straight, all thoughts of going back to sleep immediately forgotten. Her mom let out a somewhat distressed sigh._

"_Oh Sybil" her mother whispered__**.**__ "It's your father__**;**__ he's had a heart attack….." _

* * *

**-Two weeks later-**

There were too many clocks. Three were hanging on the wall above her head**; **one of them was a Cuckoo clock, which was not a very fitting name because the bird inside it whistled rather than made a 'Cuckoo' sound. A pair of old grandfather clocks guarded the entrance on both sides, and they somehow managed to look more menacing than any ordinary security guard ever could. After nearly 30 minutes in which she could only stare at the dull grey wall and listen to the ticking clocks, the notary finally sauntered into the lobby. "Miss Crawley?" he asked looking around as if she was far from the only person present.

Sybil rolled her eyes. "Here," she raised her right hand and nearly knocked one of the clocks down.

"Careful!" the notary yelped, shooting her a dirty look. Now Sybil remembered why she had always hated the coming here in the first place.

The notary combed a hand through his greying hair (or what was left of it), and pushed his obscenely red glasses further up his nose. "Step into my office, please," he rasped, leading the way.

The office was just as dull as the reception hall, just with fewer clocks. The walls were a boring brown, and in the middle of the tiny office stood a single mahogany desk with a computer and some cheap looking chairs placed around it.

"I'm terribly sorry for your loss Miss Crawley," the notary said as Sybil took the seat opposite the computer. He closed the door to his office, waddled over to the PC, and dropped himself behind it on the only comfortable looking chair in the room. "Thank you," Sybil murmured, politely.

"I gather none of the other family members were available today?" He gave her a disapproving look and Sybil knew exactly what he was thinking. Even Sybil herself had objected when her mother had urged her to be the one to go to the reading of her fathers will. Sybil and her father hadn't been on speaking terms for years and if her mom wouldn't go, at least one of her sisters could have. Yet her mom had insisted Sybil _had _to be the one to go and she was about to find out why.

"It seems your father has left everything to you**,**" the notary said**,** fixing her with a stern look that said _'you had better not screw this up._' He pushed his square shaped glasses back up his nose and gave Sybil some time to consider.

"I'm s-sorry**…**" she stuttered**.** "Everything?"

Surly her dad wouldn't have been stupid enough to leave all his possessions to her. She could easily think of a handful of people much better prepared to take care of his dog, his house, and most of all the company**.**

_His_ company.

"Everything**,**" the notary confirmed. He rustled through some papers and pushed a few of them towards her side of the desk, along with a shiny brown pen. "I'd like the pen back**,**" he said, eyeing her suspiciously. Obviously most of his clients liked to keep a little souvenir of their visit to his offices.

Sybil hesitated, still not sure what all of this meant. Why hadn't he left everything to her sisters, or mom**,** or even his new girlfriend?

"Of course you don't have to accept this inheritance," the notary said with a smug smile**,** as if he knew she was having doubts. Sybil had never liked her father's notary very much, but her dad always insisted he was the second most reliable man he had ever known. He had never told her who the first was.

"No, I'll accept it," Sybil replied with as much confidence as she could muster. She grabbed a hold of the slippery pen and brought her shaking hand down on the paper. After less than a minute, she had signed everything, making her the new CEO of Crawley Tech, a software development company in Dublin, Ireland.

"After your father's passing a temporary CEO was instated, who will take care of business until you are ready to make the journey and wrap everything up," the notary explained.

"_Wrap everything up?"_ Was he implying she should sell the company or leave someone else in charge? Of course he was, and he was right, she had no experience whatsoever and she certainly didn't want to inherit anything in the first place! The sooner she took care of this, the better.

"Again my deepest condolences Miss Crawley," the notary said with a sad note to his voice. He gathered all the papers and folded them into a neat stack. "Your father was a great man." There it was again. She had lost count of how many people had said that to her over the last two weeks. She gave the notary a polite nod and left his office with a mixture of fear and resentment.

As she neared the ever menacing grandfather clocks, she slowly grew aware of a strange noise she hadn't heard before. It was as if a small crowd had gathered outside and they were all talking to one another at the same time. She didn't have much time to think any more of it as the notary came storming out of his office**.** "Miss Crawley, it seems a small crowd of reporters has gathered outside."

Sybil stared at him as if he'd just grown a second head.

Surely those reporters were here for someone else? "Why**? I**s the president here or something?" She looked around hoping against all odds she'd spot someone famous, but no, it was just her and the notary who seemed on no accounts happy his little office was surrounded. "Is there a back door?" Sybil asked hopefully**,** but the notary shook his head**.**

"Not unless you want to jump out the window?" he helpfully supplied.

Sybil thanked him for the 'kind' offer**, **but decided she preferred a group of reporters over the bushes of nettle which she was sure grew outside the notary's balcony in large numbers. "Here we go**,**" she muttered under her breath as she opened the double glass doors and stepped out into the crisp winter air. The crowd immediately fell silent. Sybil's cheeks turned red when she saw all eyes were on her.

Less than two seconds later**,** she was surrounded.

"Miss Crawley?" one particularly perky red-headed reporter asked. "When will you be taking over your fathers company?" She pushed her microphone so close it nearly hit Sybil in the face.

All the other reporters who clearly thought "Miss Perky" had just asked a brilliant question started copying her, and within two seconds Sybil had three cameras and five microphones in her face, all waiting for an answer to the same question.

"I'm not taking over anything," Sybil blurted out as she pushed a few cameras away. "I'm selling it." She pushed her way through the crowd. "No further questions please." She rushed to the secured parking lot nearby without looking back to see if anyone had followed her. Sybil quickly spotted her Candy Apple red Toyota, a birthday gift from her mother and sisters. She was thinking of having it repainted in a more subtle colour, but then again, she didn't want to look a gift horse in the mouth. Besides it did reduce her chances of not being noticed on the road. "Crap," she muttered as she realized it would also make her much easier to follow for the nosy reporters. The last thing she needed was for them to know where she lived.

Walking back to the main road, she hailed a cab and asked him to drive her to the one place she knew she could unleash all the feelings that had been cooped up inside her all day.

Downton Place.

**TBC**

Let me know what you think!:)


	3. Chapter 2: Adjustments

**A/N: Thank you so much to everyone who has followed/favorited and most of all reviewed this story! I love you all! I really can't comment on whether Sybil will die in the end or not, sorry. Thanks again to my wonderful beta The Yankee Countess, couldn't do this without her. **

* * *

**Chapter 2: Adjustments**

"He did WHAT?" Mary exclaimed, turning away from the window to stare at her youngest sister in disbelief. They were all gathered in the drawing room of Downton Place, tea and biscuits all but forgotten on the table and the TV playing softly in the background.

Sybil sighed. All she had wanted was to see her Aunt Isobel, to discuss everything that had happened at the notary's and how she should break the news to her sister. Unfortunately her two older sisters, Mary and Edith, were already there along with Mary's husband, her cousin Matthew. In the end Sybil decided it was no use to keep things a secret any longer, and revealed everything that had happened to her that day.

Edith, who was used to being looked over by her father, took the news rather well, but Mary was seething with anger.

"Why on earth would he leave everything to _you?_" she cried out. Any other person would have taken offense, but Sybil knew her eldest sister was just looking for a way to vent, and didn't mean anything she said as a personal insult.

"Maybe because he thought Sybil deserved it most?" Matthew said, offering Sybil a soft smile. He knew more than anyone else in the world what it was like to be the subject of Mary's wrath.

Mary narrowed her eyes and shot daggers at her husband. "And I don't?" she questioned. "Edith, say something!" Everyone turned to Edith, but she just opened and closed her mouth like a goldfish gasping for air. She did _not _want to get in the middle of this.

"Well when you think about it, it's only fair," Isobel finally interrupted. "Mary, you and Matthew are doing very well for yourselves, already." It was true. Three years ago, Mary's grandeur had finally amounted to something and landed her the lead role in famous musical. Ever since then she had appeared in numerous other films and musicals. If that wasn't enough, her husband was an outstanding lawyer at one of the biggest law firms in England.

"And Edith, you can't really complain about your current situation either," Isobel finished as she turned to look at the redheaded Crawley sister, who nodded her head in agreement. Edith had started out as a journalist, writing articles for a newspaper which felt like years ago, now. The talented girl had made it to the position of editor-in-chief in a matter of years. On top of that, she was about to marry Sir Anthony Strallan, a gentlemen of aristocratic lineage, like themselves.

"That leaves me," Sybil mumbled as she cast her eyes to the floor. She was proud of herself, and the work she did, but she was saddened by the thought that she had been somewhat of a disappointment in her family's eyes.

"I'm sure you'll do fine," Sybil was pulled from her thoughts by a reassuring squeeze on her shoulder. It was Edith. "Papa wouldn't have trusted you with this if he didn't think you could do it."

Sybil gave her a small smile in return, trying hard to keep her mind from wandering back to the night she had last seen her father. They hadn't parted on good terms.

Mary sighed, but eventually agreed with cousin Isobel, Matthew and even Edith. "I suppose you do deserve it," she quietly admitted.

Of course things never stayed quiet in the village of Downton for very long. Especially not when one of the daughters of the family who nearly owned the entire village had just been on TV with a shocking revelation.

"Sybil, you're on TV!" Matthew pointed as he walked over to the couch and turned up the volume. Sybil's cheeks turned crimson as everyone in the room gathered around to watch the encounter she'd had with the media earlier that day.

Less than three minutes later Mary was red hot with anger again. "Why would Papa leave his company to _you_ if you're only going to sell it?" She sounded more on the verge of despair right now.

"Because I don't want to be CEO of anything!" Sybil countered feeling a bit upset herself. "I'm quite happy where I am right now, thank you."

"But you're a nurse." This time it was Edith. She sounded much less judgemental then Mary and genuinely wanted to understand her younger sister, even though she never would.

"I love my job and I wouldn't want to trade it for anything else!" Sybil defended. The pride in her voice was obvious and Isobel couldn't help but smile. She had always supported of the youngest Crawley sister's decisions and she wouldn't stop now. Even Edith and Matthew seemed to accept this as Sybil's final answer.

"Wait until Mama hears about this," Mary sighed in frustration.

* * *

**One week later -**

Sybil woke up to the sounds of way too many things at once. The roar of the plane's engines, the inaudible voice of the captain that spoke through the speakers, and the music of a young man two rows over. To top it all off, the smell of her Russian neighbours was less than inviting.

Her eyes still stung and were probably red from crying and a lack of sleep. Oddly enough her mother had been on her side of the argument, and they had come to the conclusion that it was best for Sybil to fly to Dublin and wrap up anything "business related" as soon as possible. Her father's girlfriend (until his death) Mrs. Braithwaite, had even been kind enough to let Sybil stay at her house until everything was settled.

Sybil had never been so far away from home before, and she missed her mother and sisters already. Before she had a chance to get depressed about any of these things, a stewardess walked by and showed her a small yellow paper.

"We'll be landing shortly, will you be needing this?" she asked in a stern voice. Sybil knew it was a declaration form and she knew she _didn't_ need one, but somehow no words came out when she tried to explain this to the impatient stewardess.

"I've got more people to attend to," the woman snapped. She dropped one of the forms in Sybil's lap and rolled her eyes before moving on.

Sybil's Russian neighbours weren't faring any better. They were staring at the form as if it was the Lochness Monster itself.

The man who sat beside Sybil softly elbowed her in the ribs. "Help?" he desperately asked. He pointed one of his sausage like fingers towards the form and Sybil nodded her consent.

"First, you need to fill out where you live," she shouted loud and clear. Then she wondered why people always thought that shouting things at foreigners magically made the language barrier disappear. The Russians still didn't understand her.

During the next thirty minutes she tried her best to help the couple by making hand gestures and tiny drawings on her hand. Her Pictionary skills had never been put to better use, and by the time she finally stepped off the plane, she had been thanked in Russian about a hundred times.

Luckily she made it through customs and baggage claim in record time. The Dublin airport wasn't very big, but somehow she still managed to get lost. The first thing she noticed was that all the signs were in both English and Gaelic, a language she would probably never understand.

Sybil quickly set about looking for Mrs Braithwaite, which wasn't an easy task seeing as she had only met the woman once at a Christmas party. After scanning the arrivals hall for a while she was surprised when she saw a young blond haired woman approach her, a woman who was the spitting image of Mrs Braithwaite, only younger, possibly Sybil's age.

"Are you Sybil?" the woman had clearly caught Sybil staring, and was offering her a gentle smile. For a moment Sybil was at a loss; the unknown woman definitely wasn't Mrs Braithwaite.

'_Maybe she's looking for a different Sybil?' _Then again how many Sybil's could there possibly have been on her flight? The woman clearly picked up on Sybil's hesitation and quickly held up a crumbled piece of paper she had been holding. It had the name 'Sybil Crawley' written on it in pink marker.

Sybil gave her a soft smile, still a little unsure. The other woman however was not.

"It's so nice to finally meet you!" she yelped. She swiftly stepped forward and embraced Sybil as if they had known each other for years. "How was your flight? Are you tired? Do you want something to eat or drink?"

"I don't mean to be rude, but who are you?" Sybil managed to choke out when the other woman finally released her.

The woman's happy demeanour melted like ice and the look that replaced her kind features was one of utter dismay. "You're joking, right?"

Sybil didn't know what to say and instantly wished Mary was with her; she would know what to do and how to solve this ridiculous predicament she had gotten herself into.

Luckily, the woman's smile gradually returned and she patted Sybil on the shoulders a few times. "Silly me," she said. "You must be sleep deprived. I'm sure you were very excited about meeting me as well, you just forgot all about it because of your jetlag".

Sybil had half a mind to correct her but decided to let it go for now.

"I'm Edna, ring any bells? I mean we're practically sisters after all!"

The light bulb in Sybil's head switched itself on with a subtle 'click', and Sybil finally had proof that she wasn't being kidnapped by a crazy loony who wanted to use her as a drug mule .

"You're Mrs Braithwaite's daughter." It wasn't a question, and Sybil couldn't say she was surprised. Even though her father had never mentioned the fact that his new girlfriend had a daughter, the similarities between Edna and her mother were uncanny. Besides, both Sybil and Edith had always suspected that their father had neglected to tell them something important.

"Took you long enough," Edna laughed, giving her an extra eye roll for dramatic effect. "But that's ok, I guess not everyone can be as smart as me."

Sybil was a taken aback by Edna's words, but then she figured it must have been a lame attempt at a joke.

"Enough chit chat, we have to get home before dinner and it's almost rush hour."

Without further ado, Edna took off and Sybil had to run to keep up with her, which wasn't easy when you were also hauling two suitcases. Sybil was glad to see the end of the over-crowded airport.

Tomorrow she would visit her father's company, talk to the head manger, and leave him to take care of things. She was sure she could put up with Edna for one or two days. All she really wanted was to go home as soon as possible.

Little did she know that fate had other plans…

**TBC**

**Some reviews would really make my day, so please let me know what you think:) Sybil and Tom will meet in the next chapter.  
**


	4. Chapter 3: At first sight

**A/N: Thanks to everyone who reviewed/followed/favourited and thanks to my beta 'The Yankee Countess'. I'd be lost without her. **

* * *

**Chapter 3: At first sight**

Sybil was drooling and she didn't even care. She had seen some pictures of the outside of the huge building that was now her father's place of business, but never in a million years had she expected it to be this beautiful on the inside. He had clearly not decorated the place himself.

She had just entered through a pair of massive glass doors and was now standing in front of a huge fountain, which was located in the middle of the lobby. People where eating their lunch on the benches that surrounded the space. To the sides there were plants and lounging areas, and right behind the fountain were six mahogany reception desks. Next to the desks were the elevators, but first one would need to pass through a heavily guard metal detector, before proceeding to them.

Sybil approached one of the receptionists, the only one who wasn't occupied at that moment. _"Sarah O'Brian"_ according to her name tag.

"Welcome to Crawley Tech, madam," she said without looking up at Sybil. "What can I do for you today?"

Sybil hesitated. She felt slightly intimidated by the receptionist who clearly thought she had better things to do than helping customers. "I…" she stuttered, causing O'Brian to fix her with a cold stare. Sybil swallowed. "My name is Sybil Crawley, and I'm here to see the CEO; he's expecting me," she blurted out with as much confidence as she could muster.

O'Brian didn't seem very convinced and mumbled something under her breath that sounded a lot like _'…and I'm the queen of England'._

"Can I please see some ID, Miss Crawley?" she asked aloud, with one of those big fake smiles plastered on her face.

"Sure thing," Sybil smoothly replied. She started dinging around into her purse and saw O'Brian roll her eyes at one of the other receptionists. She was convinced Sybil was lying.

It didn't take long for Sybil to find her driver's license and she roughly shoved it in the receptionist's face. O'Brian eyed her suspiciously as she reached for the phone on her desk, and didn't turn away until whoever was on the other end answered.

**- 30 minutes later- **

Sybil let out a sigh of relief. She had finally made it past security and the annoying receptionist who reluctantly allowed her to go up to the CEO's office, but never apologized for her rudeness. She was going to be an hour late due to this fiasco._ 'Great way to make a first impression!' _To make matters even worse, Sybil was facing a maze of corridors, staircases, and elevators without any idea whatsoever which way she had to go.

Lucky for her, a young redheaded woman spotted her and immediately identified her as a first time visitor. "Good morning ma'am, can I be of any assistance?" she asked Sybil as politely as possible.

"Yes!" Sybil exclaimed, a little louder than intended. "I'm looking for the CEO's office?"

The redheaded woman's cheeks flushed. "Of course," she mumbled, "Follow me please." Before Sybil had a chance to say anything else, the woman directed her gaze to the floor and awkwardly shuffled towards the elevators.

Sybil had no idea what to make of the woman's strange behaviour, but followed her anyway, more than happy to leave the crowded lobby behind. As Sybil stepped into the elevator, she didn't fail to notice the redhead's hesitation about whether to join her or not.

"I'm Sybil, nice to meet you," Sybil said in a weak attempt to make the other woman feel more at ease.

It seemed to work; the woman looked up at her and smiled shyly. "I'm Gwen," she said as she fully stepped into the elevator to shake Sybil's hand. Sybil felt her hand tremble a bit, and could tell Gwen was very nervous about something.

"Are you alright, Gwen?" she asked when the redhead turned around to press the button for the top floor.

Gwen turned red again. "I-I'm fine," she stuttered. "It's just…"

The elevator dinged or pinged and whatever Gwen was going to say, was lost. The doors opened and they stepped out into another small reception room, with a blue carpet and matching blue chairs. To the left was another wooden reception desk and to the left of it was another corridor which probably led to the CEO's office.

"Mrs Hughes?" Gwen called out as she shuffled out of the elevator and crained her neck to see if anyone was around. "Please take a seat," Gwen told Sybil, gesturing to the expensive looking blue chairs. "I'm sure Mrs Hughes will be here shortly,"

"But I have an appointment with the temporary CEO," Sybil pointed out. Her words seemed to put Gwen even more on edge than she already was.

"I understand," Gwen said, and her eyes dashed around nervously. "Just ask Mrs. Hughes; she'll help you further," and with those words, Gwen made a wild dash for the elevator and she almost made it too.

"Gwen?!" an older woman came around the corner and walked towards them. "What on earth are you doing here?" she asked, a stern expression on her face.

"I'm sorry Mrs. Hughes," Gwen looked like a deer caught in the headlights. "I just accompanied Miss Sybil; she was lost."

Sybil nodded in agreement, not quite sure what was going on.

Mrs. Hughes's expression softened. "Well, hurry back downstairs; you know how _he _feels about you being up here." Gwen nodded, giving Sybil one last smile before allowing the elevator doors to close.

"You must be Miss Crawley!" Mrs. Hughes looked like a kind person, and Sybil instantly knew she was going to like the older woman.

"Nice to meet you," Sybil politely said as they moved down the hallway. As they passed the single desk, Sybil could just make out a nametag that read, _Elsie Hughes, Chief Administrative Assistant,_ the letters had faded and some of them had disappeared completely. Sybil had noticed that all the employees wore similar nametags, but theirs seemed to be in a much better state.

They came to a stop at a set of double doors, which looked as if they were the size of a house. Mrs. Hughes knocked and waited patiently for a reply.

"What is it now?!" someone with a posh British accent snarled from behind the door.

Mrs. Hughes sighed tiredly. "Miss Crawley is here to see you, sir…"

There were a few muffled curses and some shuffling, before the door flew open and a gentleman around Sybil's age appeared in the doorway. He wore a perfect tailored suit, had perfectly styled black hair and pearly white teeth that gave a perfect smile. Yet there was something about him that Sybil didn't like, though she couldn't really tell what it was. After all she hardly knew the man.

"You must be Robert's daughter, Lady Sybil Crawley."

He extended his right hand, which was the size of a shovel, but had perfectly manicured fingernails none the less.

"And you must be Mr. Grey," Sybil stated matter-of-factly. "Nice to finally meet you."

She returned his gesture but instantly regretted it when he squeezed her hand so hard it caused her to wince with discomfort.

"How would you like a tour through _our_ company?" The way he spoke made it seem like he already owned the place, but Sybil had no intention to allow him to stay on as CEO. She would sell the company to someone else, so that she would never have to hear about it again.

"Well…" Sybil hesitated. She wanted to get everything taken care of as soon as possible, but surely a look around the place her dad had been in charge of for over a decade couldn't hurt?

Larry took matters into his own hands before she could make a decision. "Great!" he said "Hughes, take care of things while I show Lady Sybil around, and try not to make a mess of things." Sybil felt sorry for the older woman and swore she would talk to Larry about the way he spoke to his secretary.

"Let's get started shall we?" Larry took her arm and escorted her to the elevators. Sybil tried very hard to look excited, but deep down she started to feel homesick once again.

**- An hour later –**

By the time they ascended the final staircase that would lead them back to the lobby, Sybil's spirits had lifted. She had met a lot of very nice people on their voyage through Crawley Tech, and everything looked amazing; so unlike her father.

All the floors had a big open office space; the desks, computers, and chairs all had the same make and colour and were all placed in a straight line. Everything looked so symmetrical and so…_right_, it was almost scary.

"Not what you expected?" Larry asked as they came to a halt.

Sybil's good mood instantly disappeared. She had noticed how the employees seemed reluctant to talk about anything that was not work related when _'Mr Grey'_ was around, and they always looked nervous, like Gwen had earlier that day.

"It's a magnificent building," Sybil commented, and Larry smiled proudly. "And the employees are very friendly!" This time Larry didn't give her any visual response. It was quite clear that the man loathed anyone that wasn't as posh and fancy as him.

When they were about to return to the lobby, Sybil noticed another set of stairs from the corner of her eye.

"Wait, what's down there?" she asked, pointing at the staircase behind them.

"Nothing important," Larry answered with a dismissive gesture. "Just the mailroom and the archives."

"We haven't seen those yet," Sybil replied, her face lighting up at the prospect of meeting more employees.

Larry rolled his eyes. "We don't have to," he huffed. "No one important works down there."

"I'd like to see that for myself," Sybil said stubbornly. She was already half way down the stairs when he decided to follow her.

"It might be a bit chilly down there," Larry warned as they stepped into the dimly lit basement.

He was right. The basement was much cooler than the rest of the building, but Sybil didn't mind.

They were standing in the middle of a long corridor that reminded Sybil of a hotel. There were a lot of doors on both sides and the grey walls made everything seem kind of boring. All the way in the back, a sliver of daylight filtered in from beneath the loading bay door, but it didn't reach them.

The sound of laughter and muffled voices could be heard from behind the door that read _'Mail Room',_ and as Sybil approached it, she could hear what was being said.

"I feel sorry for her…"

Sybil recognized Gwen's voice and was happy to know she would get a chance to thank the redhead for her help earlier that morning.

"I don't," a male voice replied. "If she had a meeting with the big boss man himself, she's probably a rich snob herself."

Sybil knew they were talking about her and couldn't help but feel hurt by the unknown man's judgement.

"Thomas!" Gwen exclaimed. "Shut up; you don't know that!"

Sybil slowly opened the door and had to let her eyes adjust to the bright light for a moment. The mail room was huge and brightly lit; the front office had a desk and a lot of shelves with all sorts of packages and office supplies on it. A smaller room in the back held the copying machines by the sound of it.

"Miss Sybil?" Gwen jumped up from the desk she'd been leaning on in surprise. "Is there something I can help you with?"

Sybil fully stepped into the room so Larry could join her. "I just wanted to say thank you for helping me out earlier."

Larry looked from Sybil to Gwen and the redhead thanked her lucky stars he didn't pursue the issue any further.

"I don't believe we've met; I'm Thomas Barrow," the young black haired man Sybil had heard through the door earlier greeted, while stepping forward to politely shake her hand.

"Where are Lang and Branson?" Larry snapped before Sybil could say anything else.

"Mr. Lang went out to buy some supplies, and Mr Branson is…" Gwen turned slightly red and turned to Thomas, not sure how to explain to their boss why their colleague hadn't shown up yet.

"Right here _sir,"_ someone with a thick Irish accent called out from the backroom. Both Thomas and Gwen looked surprised, but managed to hide it well from their boss.

Sybil was about to walk over so she could properly introduce herself, but stopped in her tracks as a very handsome young man with the most wonderful blue eyes emerged from the backroom, and stopped right in front of her.

Sybil gulped and felt her cheeks and ears turn slightly red. "H-hi…" was all she managed to utter.

The man gave her a broad smile and opened his mouth to respond. Unfortunately, Larry had noticed the change in Sybil's behaviour and quickly stepped in.

"Branson, I'm glad to have caught you," he said, pushing himself between the two. "I want to have a word with you in my office."

Mr. Branson looked very displeased but held his tongue. "Whatever it is you want to discuss _sir, _you can do it here; I've nothing to hide."

Sybil could tell there was no love lost between the CEO and the mailroom employee, not that she could blame Mr. Branson.

"Alright, if you're sure," Larry said, smiling cruelly; this was something he'd been looking forward to for a long time. "You're fired."

**TBC**

**Anyone else feel like shooting Larry? Please let me know what you thought of this chapter:-) **


	5. Chapter 4: Too soon to say goodbye

A/N: Thanks for all the amazing reviews and thanks to my followers! I hope you'll enjoy this chapter. A even bigger thanks to my amazing beta 'The Yankee Countess'.

**Chapter 4: Too soon to say goodbye**

"_You're fired!_"

Larry's harsh words echoed through the room and for a while everyone was quiet. Mr Branson tried not to show any sign of emotion, but Sybil, who during her work as a nurse had learned to read expressions, could tell he was genuinely hurt.

Larry, who had the brain capacity of a Twinkie didn't seem to notice or care.

"Pack up your things and come up to my office when you're done so we can wrap things up." He narrowed his eyes at Branson and gave him a warning look that said, _'Don't cause any trouble'._

A brief flicker of anger crossed Branson's face and Sybil was sure he was about to stand up for himself and sucker punch Larry, when he suddenly thought the better of it and shoved his clenched fists back into his pockets.

"It's not fair!"

Everyone was surprised by Gwen's soft, but firm voice.

"You can't just fire Tom; he's worked here for over ten years!" she yelled, taking a few threatening steps forward.

Larry spun around to face her, his eyes blazing with anger. "What did you just say to me?!" Tom quickly shook his head to stop Gwen from saying anything else.

Thomas, who saw this, grabbed Gwen by the shoulders and pulled her back towards the desk they'd been leaning on. "Nothing sir; Gwen's just having a bit of a rough day," he said by way of apology.

Larry nodded dismissively. "Just make sure it doesn't happen again," he warned. He knew_ his _company couldn't survive if he fired all of his employees in one day, even though the mail room employees meant very little to him. "Come along Sybil; let's get back upstairs." He tried to grab a hold of her hand but Sybil pulled back and looked at him defiantly.

She had made up her mind and wanted nothing more to do with the loathsome man in front of her.

As Larry stalked out of the room, Sybil couldn't stop herself from turning around one last time before following him. She looked at Mr Branson who seemed lost in not so very happy thoughts.

"Don't worry Mr Branson," she told him kindly. "I'll have a word with Mr Grey about this." Her tone left no room for argument and her words seemed to pull him back to the present.

He gave her a sad smile in return, but his eyes sparkled in admiration. "That's very kind of you, but please don't get yourself into trouble on my behalf." Sybil was about to open her mouth to say something, but he stopped her. "I'll be fine."

Of course Sybil didn't believe a word he said, but she decided to leave it for now. She gave a polite nod and stepped out of the room.

"And please, call me Tom!" was the last thing she heard him shout before she reached the stairs and headed back up.

She caught up with Larry by the elevators. "Now you've literally seen everything here," he told her irritably. "I suggest we head back up to my office, so we can go through the necessary paperwork."

Sybil nodded in agreement, her mind still trying to process everything that had happened since she woke up this morning. She was exhausted and the clock hadn't even reached twelve.

Mrs Hughes was patiently waiting for them behind her desk and stood up the moment Larry stormed down the hallway, followed by a much slower Sybil.

"Sir…." Mrs Hughes began, but Larry didn't even stop to look at her.

"Not now!" he snapped, and headed straight for his office.

Sybil gave the other woman and apologetic look. "I apologize for Mr Grey's behaviour," she said. "I'm afraid he doesn't like me much and I've upset him," Sybil rolled her eyes dramatically and Mrs Hughes couldn't help but laugh.

"Don't worry Miss Crawley," she replied as she sat back down behind her computer. "I don't think I've ever met anyone who Mr Grey does like or approves of."

Sybil smiled and started towards the CEO's office herself. "Lucky me," she mumbled just loud enough for Mrs Hughes to hear.

Larry was already in his big black swivel chair, impatiently drumming his fingers on the desk in front of him. "Took you long enough," he muttered.

Sybil sighed, closed the door and sat down on a very uncomfortable wooden stool. "Let's get started," was all she had to say.

An hour later Sybil had a splitting headache, but the end of all the paperwork was in sight and she'd be able to go home and rest soon. Larry would set up a meeting with the buyers as soon as possible and he'd tie up all the loose ends as well. Sybil was glad because even though she truly disliked the man, she had no field experience in the business area whatsoever. In fact, she'd didn't even care how much money she'd gain from this, all she wanted to do was head back home and find a job as a nurse again.

A soft but firm knock on the door interrupted her thoughts. "Enter," Larry grunted without looking up from his work.

Mrs Hughes poked her head around the door. "Mr Branson is here to see you sir," she explained.

This time Larry did look up, and he even seemed a bit surprised. "Oh right," he said. "I'd forgotten I told him to come up here." Sybil tried hard to hide her annoyance; how could he have forgotten about the employee he had fired that morning already?

"Send him in," Larry told his chief administrative assistant. "Would you please excuse me Sybil? This won't take long."

Sybil shook her head; she didn't want to leave because she very much intended to keep her promise and have a word with Larry about the way he had treated Mr Branson—_Tom, _she corrected herself. "I'd like to stay, if you don't mind."

Larry didn't look happy and wanted to say something, but when Mr Branson came in, Larry seemed to forget about everything but his hatred towards the young man.

"I don't mind," Tom replied evenly not taking his eyes off Larry. Sybil stood and moved to stand near the door while Tom took her place on the stool.

Larry searched around in one of his drawers for a bit, before pulling out what looked like a personnel file with Tom's name on it. He opened it pulled out some papers and pushed them towards Tom.

"You know how this goes, don't you?" Larry sneered as he slammed a pen down in front of Tom for good measure.

Sybil saw Tom stiffen and for a moment she was convinced, for the second time that day, he was about to knock Larry Grey unconscious. After a deep sigh, however, all he did was grab the pen and sign his name on the documents.

"Um, excuse me?!"

Even though Sybil didn't know the first thing about firing procedures, she was pretty sure this wasn't the way things were supposed to go.

"You can't just fire an employee without probable cause!"

Tom turned around to face her and seemed upset. "Don't," he whispered through clenched teeth.

It was too late. Without realizing it, Sybil had given Larry the perfect ammunition to humiliate the man he hated and loathed the most, even further.

"No Sybil, you're right I can't," he answered in a nasty tone. "But ever since your father passed away, Mr Branson here has been late to work every day; he's called in sick countless of times, and worst of all he somehow tricks his co-workers to cover for him time and time again."

Tom was seething with anger, and he stood up and threateningly leaned over the desk, causing his stool to topple over. "I haven't tricked anyone and if you ever talk to me that way again I swear to god you'll regret it, bonus or no bonus."

Larry looked genuinely scared and stunned for half a second before a wicked smile appeared on his face. "Before you leave, you'd better tell your friends that they are on thin ice; _very_ thin ice"

Tom huffed, snatched a copy of the signed documents from the desk, and headed for the door. "It doesn't really matter does it?!" he accused. "Next week most of the employees here will be out of a job anyway!" With that he stormed out the door, leaving a shocked Sybil and an enraged Larry behind.

It didn't take Sybil long to make up her mind, and she mumbled something inaudible to Larry and ran out of the office and down the hallway, just in time to stop Tom from stepping inside the elevators. Mrs Hughes had never heard this much commotion in all the years she'd worked at the company.

"Mr Branson, Tom, please—wait!"

Sybil nearly bumped into him as he took an unexpected step towards her and away from the elevators. She took a few seconds to catch her breath and all the while Tom waited patiently for her to continue.

"What did you mean when you said that next week most employees will be out of a job?" she asked him, curiously trying hard to concentrate and not to get lost in his twinkling green eyes.

"I guess _Mr Grey_ didn't tell you then," he snarled, his accent stronger than ever. "The people he's planning to sell to, were—no _are_—this company's biggest competition." He looked earnestly at her and Sybil felt a bit idiotic for not quite understanding what all of it meant.

"They won't have need for anyone who worked for your father; they'll bring _their own_ employees," Tom elaborated patiently.

Sybil looked at him wide eyed; surely Larry wouldn't allow _that_ to happen?

…Would he?

"It was nice meeting you Sybil. I wish we could have met under different circumstances," Tom told her sadly. He picked up a plastic box that stood near his feet (she guessed it held his personal items) and pressed the elevator button.

Sybil took a deep breath to keep from blushing. "Wait," she said. "I'm not just going to let La—Mr Grey get away with this." She was confident she could secure Tom's and the other employees' jobs if she could just have a real talk with Larry about it.

Tom huffed and shook his head. "Do you truly believe you can make a difference, just because you're friends with the boss man?" he asked her in a monotone voice.

Sybil was a bit taken aback by his sudden change in attitude. "I'm just trying to help," she softly defended. This set Tom's teeth on edge even further.

"I've worked here for over ten years!" he snapped. "I really don't think I need help from the rich and powerful who don't know a thing about _real_ work!"

Sybil was hurt by his harsh words and wasn't planning to listen to him a minute longer, when she noticed his eyes were focussing on something…or_ someone,_ behind her.

She didn't have think twice about who it might be; there was only one person that could evoke such anger from Tom Branson in this building.

"Mrs Hughes, please call security to escort this dirty little mick out," Larry snarled to the very confused administrative assistant.

In a split second, Tom was standing right in front of Larry, and without hesitation he pulled back a clenched fist and punched the CEO in the face with all his might.

Larry stumbled and fell backwards. "I'll see myself out," Tom growled, stalking past Sybil and starting down the stairs, leaving his plastic box with personal items behind.

Larry was groaning and holding his bleeding nose, but Sybil could tell it wasn't broken and that he would be fine after the initial shock wore off.

Speaking of shock, she figured now would be the best time to inform him of the decision she had made, so he wouldn't have to go through the same process twice.

"Mr Grey," she said in a tone that left no room for argument. "I've changed my mind; I _will be_ accepting the position of CEO after all."

**TBC**

Go Tom! Leaving a review only takes a few seconds of your time, really


	6. Chapter 5: With a little help

**A/N: I'm so, so sorry for the delay. I just had the mother of all writing blocks to deal with, but now my muse is finally back. I hope you still want to read the rest of my fanfic and please let me know if you enjoyed it! Again a big thank you to my beta, Yankee Countess, she's a real life-saver.**

**Disclaimer: Do you really think I would have let Matthew and Sybil die if I owned anything?! Hell NO!**

* * *

**Chapter 5: With a little help from my friends**

A traffic jam. Great. ' _How much trouble can a person run into in one day?!'_ Even the voice in Sybil's head sounded frustrated. It had only been yesterday she'd told Larry about her decision to take over the company, but to Sybil it felt like years ago.

Larry had taken the news as well as to be expected from a man with enough self-confidence to take on the entire world.

"_You what?!" He shouted, his hand dropping away from his bloody and swollen nose in surprise. Sybil could tell it wasn't broken, but it would definitely be painful for the next couple of days. _

_Sybil's anger from earlier had simmered down a bit and suddenly she felt a lot less confident than she did before. "You he—heard me," she whispered not trusting herself to repeat the exact words she had used before._

"_You think you can just come in here and take over?!" Larry snarled, pushing himself into a sitting position. "Without knowing anything about this company and without any experience whatsoever?!" His voice was growing louder and louder and Sybil wondered if the entire building was now listening in on their 'conversation'. _

"_I've worked here for eight years!" Larry was standing by now, slightly swaying on his feet. Mrs. Hughes was looking on in awe, telephone in hand; ready to call an ambulance, or security. _

"_I'm not asking you to leave, Larry," Sybil patiently told him. Even though he was the biggest jerk she'd ever met, she could definitely use his expertize as head manger. To be honest she had no idea where to start without him. _

"_My father offered me a top position at his company; I was going to leave after I sold Crawley Tec." Larry's face was as red as a tomato; he had to wipe his brow several times to keep sweat from dripping into his eyes. "I wasn't planning to stay then and I certainly don't see any reason for me to stay now!" With those words Larry turned around and marched back to his office, all the while holding the walls with his hands for support. "I'll be gone by the end of the day!" _

A few harsh curses from the cabbie brought Sybil back to the present. "How much further is it?" she asked the bald, gum chewing man.

"We're about ten minutes away from the place, I'd say," he replied in between curses and furiously honking the horn. "And then you'll have to walk three more blocks," he added as an afterthought.

"Walk?!" Sybil exclaimed. At the meantime a Mercedes tried to cut the cab off from the left and the cabbie flipped the driver the bird.

"Yep, I refuse to stop this pretty car anywhere near that slum you're going," the cabbie explained. "Too high a risk of getting robbed or carjacked." Sybil snorted, the cab was anything but pretty; it was a mud-covered, malfunctioning piece of machinery and nothing more.

"Surely it can't be _that_ bad?" It wasn't really a question; Sybil was just really surprised to hear places like that still existed these days.

"It can and it is," was the cabbie's short reply. For what felt like the hundredth time that day, Sybil wondered if this whole undertaking had been a good idea.

* * *

_After Larry had left, like he promised, she was hit at an all-time low and softly cried to herself in her new office. Mrs Hughes, who Sybil now believed to be psychic, had come in to bring her a cup of tea and some comforting words._

"_Don't worry dear," she whispered as she placed a hand on Sybil's shoulder and gave it a light squeeze. "You'll figure it all out."_

"_How? The Chinese who want to buy Crawley Tec will stop by for a meeting tomorrow and I have _no idea _what to do or say!" Sybil choked out in between sobs. _

_She looked up at Mrs. Hughes, and through her tearstained eyes she could see the older woman was troubled about something. Again the people reading skills she had picked up working as a nurse didn't let her down. "Tell me," she whispered._

_Mrs Hughes seemed surprised that Sybil was on to her, but didn't comment on it. Instead she cast her eyes downward. "It's not really my place to say," she admitted. _

_This time it was Sybil's turn to place a comforting hand on the other woman's wrist, causing Mrs. Hughes to look her in the eye. "I'm not Larry," she said, her voice growing stronger and more confident as she spoke "I'd like for you and all the other employees to be completely open and honest with me, and I promise I'll listen to them and try to help wherever I can." _

"_That's kind of you to say," Mrs. Hughes gave her a soft smile. "But it's not Mr. Grey I'm worried about," she admitted while stepping away from Sybil and walking over to the big window that looked out over a beautiful park with a big fountain in the middle. "I promised your father." _

_This made Sybil even more curious. She knew her father had held more secrets then she'd care to count. Like the fact that he was leaving their mother for another woman. He never told her until a week before he left, and Sybil had never really forgiven him for it. _

_She wiped away her tears and joined Mrs. Hughes by the window. "If it's something that can help me save this company, I'm sure my father would have wanted you to tell me."_

_Mrs Hughes considered this for a few minutes. "I suppose you're right," she finally admitted as she turned to face Sybil. "Your father, Mr Crawley, and Mr Branson, used to spend a lot of time in this office together to discuss things," Mrs Hughes uncomfortably shifted her weight from one foot to the other as she said this._

_Sybil was shocked to say the least. What on earth would her father and the postman have to discuss with each other?! "What things?" she demanded a bit harsher then she meant. _

_Mrs. Hughes shrugged. "I'm sure Mr Branson can help you fill in the blanks." With that final piece of advice, Mrs. Hughes took her leave. It took Sybil thirty minutes to ponder on what she'd just heard before she finally worked up the courage to call Mr Tom Branson and ask him about it. _

_She shouldn't have been surprised to find his number in the rolodex on her father's desk, but she was. Her father had been a born and raised aristocrat and god knew her grandma had never let him forget that. He had raised Sybil and her sisters in a slightly more modern, but still very aristocratic style. To him there was still a big difference between upper-class and working-class citizens. According to her entire family, except for maybe her sister Edith, those two classes did not mix._

_Sybil dialled the number and waited patiently for Branson—Tom— Mr. Branson?—she wasn't sure what to call him anymore—to pick up. _

_He didn't. _

"_This is Tom's voicemail; please leave a message and I'll call you right back. PS: If this is someone from Crawley Tec, I don't accept apologies over the phone." _

_Sybil rolled her eyes in frustration, but let out a small giggle at the same time. It looked like she was going on a road trip through Dublin. _

And that's how she ended up in the middle of the day, with only a few hours to go before 'the meeting', in search of the very man who may or may not be able to help her.

Without much help from the cabbie, she had finally reached her destination. Sybil was standing on the narrow steps that led to the front door of a house the size of Downton Abbey's garden house back home. It was squeezed in between a row of similar looking houses, painted light blue and only had two windows. One upstairs and the one right next to the door, which was fully opened. As she got closer she heard music and paused to listen to it for a while. She didn't recognize the song or the singer, but she had to admit she quite liked it, even though it was far from the kind music she was used to listening to at home.

As the song ended Sybil felt like she had gathered enough courage and with a nervous smile plastered on her face, she rang the doorbell. Inside the music was turned off and she could hear footsteps approaching the door. When it opened, Sybil felt her cheeks turn red.

Branson was dressed in a simple white t-shirt, blue jeans and sneakers. Very unlike the fancy clothes and polished black shoes that were the dress code at Crawly Tec.

"Sybil?!" he exclaimed in his thick Irish accent, obviously surprised to find her on his doorstep. "You were definitely the last person I expected to see here." The way he spoke was not welcoming and by the looks of it he wasn't planning to let her in anytime soon. He effectively blocked the doorway with his body.

At that moment Sybil felt her self-confidence shrink to the size of a pea. She only now realized that she had never told him her last name; he had no idea who she really was. He probably thought Larry had sent someone else to do his bidding.

Just as Branson opened his mouth to say something that was undoubtedly rude or mean, Sybil stopped him by saying the first thing she could think of. "My last name is Crawley!"

For a moment they stared awkwardly at each other. Tom because he was surprised by Sybil's revelation and Sybil because she felt really stupid for blurting out something like that out of nowhere. They were both tomato red with shame.

"You're one of Robert's daughters," Tom said to himself after a while. It wasn't a question.

Sybil felt a brief stab of annoyance when Branson used her father's first name like that, but decided not to comment until she knew the full story.

Unfortunately the full story would have to wait, a glance at her watch told her that she needed to get back to the office to face a bunch of businessmen who were very eager to take over her father's company and exterminate their biggest competition.

"Look," Sybil started. "I came here to ask for your help. Larry arranged a meeting with some people from Beijing and they want to take over my father's company." Tom was still staring into the distance and she wasn't sure if he'd even heard her. "I don't know the first thing about business meetings," was the last thing she mumbled.

Tom suddenly snapped out of his trance and shook his head before focussing on her. She couldn't help but notice the beautiful sparkle he had in his eyes. "I'll do it!" he said without hesitation.

Sybil let out a sigh of relief and happiness. She held out her hand for him to shake. She remembered how her father had taught her that when two people make a business deal, they always shake on it.

Tom smiled broadly, but instead of taking her hand he raised his right hand high above his head and held it there. "Uhm, what are you doing?" Sybil questioned when he looked at her expectantly.

Tom rolled his eyes and used his left hand to grab a hold of one of Sybil's wrists and he brought it up to the same level as his own raised hand, slapping the two against each other.

"It's called a high-five," he said and his smile grew even wider.

"I knew that!" Sybil snapped in mock anger.

**TBC**

**Next chapter will follow soon, don't forget to review please.**


	7. Chapter 6: Know your enemy

**A/N: Thank you guys for reviewing, I'm glad you haven't given up on the story yet and I also want to thank everyone that is (or just started) following my story. It feels good to know that people actually read this**** Big thank you to my beta The Yankee Countess. Enjoy!**

* * *

**Chapter 6: Know your enemy**

"They're all staring at us," Sybil whispered to Tom as they stepped into the big lobby of Crawley Tec. She felt everyone's eyes on her, which instantly made her remember why she'd never wanted to become an actress or get involved in politics.

"You don't know that," Tom whispered back. "Maybe there's something really spectacular going on right behind us?"

Sybil looked up with him with raised eyebrows.

"…Yeah, alright they're starring," he finally admitted.

On the short subway ride from Tom's house to Crawley Tec, (because it turned out there was a subway connection to almost every part of Dublin and it would have saved Sybil a lot of time and money if she'd know that sooner), Tom hadn't stopped talking. Sybil just sat quietly in the overcrowded wagon, pretending she didn't know the blue-eyed Irishman who talked to each and every person sitting or standing next to them.

"You have to learn to let loose a little," Tom told her as they made their way to the elevators, irritating Sybil even further. The only time she had tried to "let loose a little" was years ago. Her mother, father, and especially her grandmother had immediately set her straight. A young lady of aristocratic heritage was supposed to act "decent and proper". In the years that followed, Sybil became shy and withdrawn up to the point where even her own sisters had to tell her to get out more. Her people skills had always remained one of her strongest traits, which perhaps was why she liked nursing so much, because she got to sit, talk, interact, and care for people.

Of course she knew Tom didn't know anything about her life. He didn't know that his comment had upset her or brought on a fresh wave of self-doubt that made her stop in her tracks. Was nothing she did ever good enough? _Nursing_, she once again reminded herself; she was good at being a nurse, she knew how to be a nurse. So why couldn't she just go back to working at the hospital?

Tom looked back over his shoulder and noticed his companion was no longer with him. "What's wrong?" he asked as he turned around to face her.

"This!" Sybil cried out with a grand gesture indicating the space around them. "All of this!" Tom saw she was struggling to hold back her tears. Everyone who wasn't staring before certainly was now.

Tom rushed towards her and Sybil expected him to tell her to stop acting like a child, but instead he grabbed her by the wrists and dragged her into an empty elevator, away from all the prying eyes.

Sybil waited for Tom to say something, not knowing that he was waiting for her to do the same thing. Eventually Sybil couldn't take it anymore; she had to tell someone about what was bothering her. Her emotions were suffocating her and she couldn't hold it in any longer.

"I want to go home," she whispered in a monotone voice. "I don't know anything about running a multi-million dollar company, I just want to be a nurse again." By now the tears were running freely down her cheeks.

Tom looked down at his feet, unsure of what to say to the woman he had only met the day before. "You can't give up now," was the first thing that came to his mind. He pulled a handkerchief from his pocket and offered it to her. "You've defied Larry Grey; the rest of this is going to a piece of cake compared to that."

They both burst out laughing and missed the ding or ping noise the elevator made, indicated they had arrived at their destination. The doors opened to reveal a very agitated Mrs. Hughes who starred at them, wide-eyed as she took in the sight of Tom and Sybil before her.

"Miss Crawley, are you alright?!" she asked clearly shocked by Sybil's tears. Mrs. Hughes shot Tom a stern look, before asking, "Did he say something to upset you?"

Sybil smiled, touched by the concern the older woman showed for her well-being. "No, no it wasn't his fault," she carefully wiped the tears from her eyes, but Tom's white handkerchief still had some black stains on it when she was finished.

The thought that her make-up was ruined and that she probably looked like a mess almost brought on a new wave of tears, but Mrs. Hughes quickly came to her aid. "Our guests haven't arrived yet," she said.

Sybil released a big breath that she didn't realize she was holding.

* * *

Upon entering the meeting room, three men similarly dressed, turned their way. Their Chinese guests had finally arrived, half an hour late, like every other self-respecting business man. As Tom closed the door behind them, all Sybil could manage was a shy smile. All three of their guests rose to their feet, but only the smallest and fattest one stepped forward. He was clearly the decision maker. His lips were set in a thin line and he stared at her over the brim of his thick, black glasses. Sybil's first thought was that the man seemed void of emotion.

Tom cleared his throat and suddenly Sybil remembered the purpose of the meeting. "Hello," Sybil suddenly said with all the enthusiasm she could muster. "I'm Sybil Crawley; it's nice to meet you." She extended her hand towards the man in front of her, who stared at it as if it was a poisonous snake. The other two, who were both large and forbidding looking (and reminded her of sumo wrestlers), gasped loudly. She didn't see Tom, who was standing behind her, roll his eyes in frustration. He firmly pushed her hand back down and shot her a look that said something along the lines of _'are you insane?!'._ He shoved her aside and gave a polite bow towards the Chinese man, who after a minute of staring at them in utter silence, returned the gesture.

What happened next was something Sybil had never expected. Tom started to address their visitors in a language that sounded a lot like Chinese. Sybil knew the language had many different dialects, so she was pleasantly surprised when the man seemed to understand what Tom was saying. Who was this man?!

The meeting itself was long and boring, and even though the rest of it was in English, Sybil still didn't understand half of what everyone was saying. In the end it turned out, Crawley Tec's biggest competition was a company based in Beijing that also had an American and European branch. It was called Lee Software Enterprises or LSE in short.

The man that did all the talking was one of the head managers from Beijing and the two sumo wrestlers were his bodyguards; they just sat in the background and never moved a muscle. When Sybil finally worked up the courage to actively participate in the meeting and tell the manager she was no longer interested in selling Crawley Tec to anyone, the man paled. If he was actually capable of showing emotion, Sybil was sure he would look angry, but his lips remained tightly pressed together. _A true poker face, _she thought.

The next stage of the meeting involved a lot of "trying to convince Sybil Crawley to change her mind". After two long hours, their guests finally gave up.

"It would've been easier if you had just sold the company to us, Miss Crawley," was the last thing the manager had said before he left. "Running this company into the ground will take some time, but in the end, we'll still win no matter what."

Sybil's eyes widened at the smile he gave her before parting. It appeared rather…_sadistic_, and it sent a chill down her spine.

Tom didn't seem to be all that troubled about it. "Don't worry, they always threaten people; I think it's in their job description or something," he joked lightly, before gathering his things and walking out the door.

Sybil swallowed and took a few more calming breaths before rising. However unlike Tom who seemed rather confident, she left the meeting room with mixed feelings. She wanted to ask him what they were supposed to do next, but was surprised to see that he was nowhere to be found.

She approached Mrs. Hughes, who was sitting behind her desk, staring intently at something on her computer screen. "Where's Tom?" she asked.

"Mr. Branson just went home," Mrs. Hughes replied, looking up at Sybil in confusion. "He said-," Before Mrs. Hughes could finish her sentence, Sybil was already gone and jumping down the stairs, leaving the older woman with a confused, but somewhat broad smile in her wake.

Sybil caught up with Tom near one of the big fountains in the lobby. "Wait! Where do you think you're going?" she called out to him.

"Home," he threw back over his shoulder without slowing down.

"But it's 4 PM!" Sybil yelled as he neared the exit. "The workday isn't over yet!"

He stopped and turned around to face her. "I know, but since I don't officially work here anymore, I'm free to go whenever I want."

He sounded bitter. The man who had comforted her in the elevator earlier that day was gone and his defences were back in place. But Sybil didn't want to give up just yet. "Then you're 'unfired'," she told him. "I still need your help."

Tom gave her a sad smile and shook his head. "What you need, is to call Larry Grey," he simply replied.

"Why on earth would I want to do that?!" Sybil exclaimed. She never, ever wanted to see that horrible man ever again, let alone call him.

"Because even though he resigned, his contract says he has to work here for at least another month before he can leave," Tom calmly explained not even attempting to hide his disdain towards the man. "I know the guy is an a-hole, but he can teach you a lot more then I can."

She was about to tell Tom he was wrong, but he was already out the door and almost instantly vanished in the busy afternoon traffic.

Sybil sighed. Suddenly she felt extremely tired and decided it was time to call it a day. She would ring Larry in the morning, but she wasn't done with Tom Branson yet either. There was definitely more to the handsome Irishman then met the eye.

At least Sybil had learned who her enemies were today. "_Know your enemy,_" her father had always told her. What she didn't realize however was that in a big company like Crawley Tec, _anyone_ could turn out to be an enemy in the end.

**TBC**

**DUM. DUM. DUMMMM, reviews are always welcome. **


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